


Morning coffee and a friend

by BrightestSun



Series: Au Yea August [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Single Parents, i guess this is fluff?, mostly cause it's nothing else, raising a teenage daughter alone is hard, single parent, sometimes it's nice to vent, talking over donuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightestSun/pseuds/BrightestSun
Summary: Roger and Tom have a small conversation about raising teenage daughters.AU Yea August day 3 - Single ParentWanted to play around inside the mind of Roger and Tom as they have to live through their children being in constant threat of akumatization.





	Morning coffee and a friend

A sweet, flakey pastry crumbled against the chubby policeman’s teeth. The newly baked croissant made him shake with joy, a tiny involuntary jig of joy. “I swear you and Sabine will be the death of me” he chuckled wiping crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

Tom, the large joyful baker chuckled back “perhaps we should consider putting a four pastry maximum”

“Don’t you dare” Roger grabbed another freshly baked piece of pastry perfection, a kouign amann. It was still slightly warm to the touch, meaning the inside would still be warm and pillowy.

Tom sat down in front of Roger, smiling at him with concern tugging at the corner of his eye. “You’ve been staying here later after work every day, Roger. You know we’re always happy to have you, but is something wrong?”

Roger paused mid-bite, looking into the strong brown eyes of the massive baker. He swallowed and sighed “well, Sabrina’s started spending even more time away from home. I hardly see her anymore. Some days I guess it just feels like a chore, returning to an empty house.” He admitted, looking up at Tom whose gentle expression shone with the comfort and empathy of a chocolate éclair.

He smiled sympathetically at Roger “I understand.” He placed a warm hand over Roger’s, who couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of Tom, he really should be the policeman, with size like that, no hoodlum would dare try anything. “You’re always welcome here” Tom’s mustache rose in a sweet smile, of course, a shop owner would say that, but when it came from this gentle giant, Roger could allow himself to truly believe in the familiar atmosphere of the small bakery.

 

“There’s something else too” he admitted, looking down into his gently steaming coffee “I’m growing unsure how to deal with Sabrina. She hardly ever talks to me, and whenever I try she gets so defensive.” He sighed, remembering the sweet, giggling voice of his little pumpkin that had rung out like beautiful bells whenever they’d have fun together only a few years ago. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile. Maybe at Christmas. One of the few occasions they still had together without the influence of the snooty blonde that had become the sun and the moon to his once sweet daughter.

Tom nodded “I feel that way sometimes too. Marinette is growing up to be such a sweet person, but I fear I can’t talk to her about everything.” He drummed his fingers against the table “and she’s keeping a secret of some kind, it worries me that she won’t tell us what it is.” Tom looked behind him, up towards his daughter’s bedroom with a worried expression.

“How do you know?” Roger asked intrigued, his cop instincts kicking in. Or at least that’s what he liked to tell himself, in reality, he knew he was just a sucker for gossip.

Tom smiled, getting more comfortable in his seat “well, she’s not always home when she says she is. We’ll come home when she’s supposed to be keeping an eye out and she’s slipped out.”

Roger sipped his coffee intrigued. At least if she was missing when she was supposed to be home, that meant at least Marinette gave some idea of when she could be expected to be home in the first place, which was more than he could say for his own daughter.

“I also think she might be talking to herself, we thought she just had a new friend or started calling Alya ‘Tikki’, but a few days ago we overheard her having a lengthy conversation with someone, while she was alone in her room, and her phone was charging downstairs.” Tom sipped his coffee, his brow furrowed.

Roger ran his finger over his pastry, the soft warm treat flaking against his touch. He tried finding a sympathetic word, something reassuring that wouldn’t feel like a platitude, he came up dry. He sighed, lifting his coffee mug with a friendly shrug towards Tom “teenage daughters, huh?”

Tom hummed amused, softly clinking his mug against the policeman’s, “teenage daughters” he smiled sympathetically.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I suspect no one will read this story, it's obviously not a popular set of characters etc. 
> 
> If you read this story for whatever reason, thank you, have a cookie, you deserve it <3


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